I have a ton of one shots sitting around doing nothing on my desktop. This is where they will live. With a twist. Every chapter will be prompted by numbers, in ascending order, starting with one. Who knows when I'll stop – but I'm challenging myself to see how creative I can get while working with these numbers as they get bigger. But anyway. Here's to procrastination and not-studying-for-finals!

One
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Basking in the new light of daybreak, Kate Beckett stirred and stretched, grimacing as she felt the tinge of sore muscles send a dull throb of pain through her body. The pain was nothing new though, she usually ached the same way after most of her more physical and violent suspect takedowns but this time, the pain was coupled with an unfamiliar sense of satisfaction and … elation?

Yes. Elation. Happiness it its purest form.

Her mother could finally rest in peace. Justice avenged. Closure found. Her mother's murder solved.

The cover up had been blown wide open, the team's unrelenting efforts over the last two months finally paying off as they finally, finally cornered the sonofabitch who had orchestrated the entire thing. After almost fifteen years of successfully evading capture and operating from within the confines of the same set of laws she had fought so hard to uphold, they finally had him.

The evidence against him was damning. They had proof that he had dipped his hands in almost every illegal activity known to man – extortion, drug trafficking, prostitution, murder, embezzlement. Real, solid, undeniable proof that would send the man to live the rest of his sorry life in prison, all because of the way Castle had –

Castle.

Kate turned onto her side and let out a small sigh of relief. Still there. He was still there. The covers had been pulled halfway down his torso, undoubtedly the result of the stifling heat they'd experienced in the night and she ran her fingers along his naked chest, revelling in the memory of looking up at it as he hovered over her, his breath washing over her as they moaned in unison, joined as intimately as two people could ever be joined.

She chewed on her bottom lip, suppressing the urge to wake him up for another round between the sheets. He needed his sleep. Recovery time and all that, both physically and sexually. The bruises that mottled his skin were fading, slowly but surely, more evidence of tough and merciless week they'd just been through. She traced contours of his face, brushing against the stubble that had grown overnight and she placed a chaste kiss on his shoulder. He was there. Right there with her.

When they'd stumbled into her apartment the night before after a few hours celebrating at the Old Haunt, she had intended to just crawl into bed and sleep for the next two weeks. Running on mostly caffeine and catnaps at the precinct, she had figured she was entitled to that at the very least. She didn't know or care what Castle was going to do with himself after she went to bed, but before she could even ask, he'd claimed her lips with his own.

Her plan to sleep till forever got pushed back by a good three hours.

He was so very skilled and all thoughts of slumber were chased out of her head the instant his lips met her skin, divesting her of all her worries and concerns that they (God forbid) weren't compatible in bed.

"You're right. It's creepy."

Oh, she hadn't even realised that he had woken up. "I'm always right. You should know that by now."

"Except for the all the times you're wrong."

The sleepy grin that he was sharing with her sent pleasant tingles through her already semi-aroused state and she inched closer to him.

"I'm hardly ever wrong, Mister Castle," she teased. Her voice was hoarse, laced with satisfaction and joy. Yeah, she really was just plain happy.

"You were wrong when you said I couldn't make you get to your fourth org – oh hey!"

She didn't allow him to finish, instead she pushed him onto his back and draped herself over him, every inch of her naked skin meeting his. "'Kay. I was wrong then."

His arms circled her, pressing her deliciously against his body and she snuggled into him. She couldn't help but remember the first time he held her like that, his arms crushing her to him, his scent engulfing her – the time at the hanger. That fateful night when he had carried her bodily away from Montgomery. Dark. Dark times.

"Things are better now," he whispered into her hair. "He would have been proud of you."

If she wasn't already so used to the way he was almost always in sync with her, she would have been really freaked out at the way he could read her mind. But she was, and it was one of the many things she'd grown to love about him. She nodded. "Yeah. He would've been proud of you too, y'know."

She heard him sigh and she lifted her head so that she could see him. His eyes were crinkled in mirth and joy that had been missing since they'd started really working on her mother's murder almost two months ago. She leaned up and kissed him. Soundly.

Her tongue traced his lips, insistent but gentle, allowing him to dictate how fast they were going to move that morning. She felt him grin into their kiss and she nipped at his bottom lip. His hands travelled across the span of her bare back, resting on her shoulder blades as they moved together, lips ghosting against one another.

"You know what today is?" She asked after a moment, pulling slightly away from him. She watched as his facial features changed with his thought process – confusion, more confusion, unashamed happiness.

"Is it the day Kate Beckett spends hours in bed with her favourite ruggedly handsome, slightly banged up author?"

"No. But I'm open to that idea."

"Oh, right. Awesome. So what day is it really then?"

She sat up, her hands falling to her sides as her thighs tightened around his hips. "Today," she whispered as her fingers walked up the side of his body. Castle gasped from beneath her, his arousal evident as she shifted on him. She tweaked his nipples, gently tugging at them playfully before she met his eyes and leaned back down to kiss him quickly.

"Today is Day One."

"… Okay?"

"Day One, Rick. Day One of the rest of our lives."

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Now who can tell me why I named this collection of one-shots 'Scheherazade'?